


Grandmother's house

by definehome



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: writerinadrawer, WriterInADrawer 4.06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-15
Updated: 2010-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definehome/pseuds/definehome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a folk-tale about an old hag who lives out in the wilderness in a hut stood on chicken legs. When Torchwood wants a favour from her, they send an offering into the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grandmother's house

**Author's Note:**

> This story was part of a short-duration writing contest. The prompt was "Into the Wilderness" (with only 7 items).

"Take this to the fifty-first floor." Diana handed off the requisition slip beneath the murmur of office workers shuffling through their final motions, caught in the delicate dance between productivity and end of the day.

"Now," Diana added, white teeth glinting ominously through dark lipstick as Ianto scribbled a hasty note. He strode away purposefully, along an indirect route.

"Ianto!" Lisa caught him at the lift. She stuck her foot in the door and forced him to accept a suit jacket and tie that he'd left at his desk.

"Why?" Lisa demanded, distraught for some reason.

"Diana," Ianto shrugged, unconcerned. Lisa bit her lip.

"You should ask for a transfer," she murmured and shoved into his hands a metal comb, just pulled from her hair, and the remains of her lunch. Lisa withdrew her foot with a gentle admonishment.

"Be generous."

### 

  
The lift stopped at a desolate forest of servers and shelves with thorny tangles of wire sprouting organically from every surface. A terrible wind blew inwards, blasting cold air.

"Can I help you?" a lynx-like man purred, his thin, furry face peering up from the desk.

Ianto produced the form. Hungry eyes slid from the paper to Ianto's lunch bag, and a finely whiskered nose twitched.

"You've come prepared."

Ianto opened the sack and offered a ham sandwich. The man took it gratefully, shoving half directly into his mouth; Ianto wandered into the wild maze, his apprehension growing.

### 

  
Eventually, Ianto came upon a security door and a gruff guard.

"Business?" the guard barked.

Ianto held out the form like a shield. The guard sniffed the paper with his wolf-like muzzle then punched a code into the keypad; the door swung open with terrible protest. As Ianto edged forward, the guard eyed Ianto's bag covetously. Ianto handed the shaggy man a large, crusty roll.

"Grease," the guard advised between bites, nodding at the hinges. Ianto blinked, but oiled the door with butter from his sack before proceeding.

### 

  
The room beyond was lined with dull ivory orbs and a shed of copper mesh was set on short stilts in the centre of the space. As he progressed, loose wires started to scratch at his skin, drawing blood; Ianto collected the filaments with the tie and secured them away from his path.

At the shed, Ianto was met by a waif of a girl, shivering with cold. Silently, Ianto draped the jacket over her shoulders. She smiled faintly and beckoned him inside, towards the ugliest woman Ianto had ever seen.

The hag glared at Ianto then moved inhumanly fast. She grabbed Ianto's hand and pressed it to a panel, securing him in place with a thick strap.

"Four hours," she pronounced, as Ianto fought down panic at the sudden restraint. "Not a moment less."

Ianto settled himself on the floor, his hand held high. Sudden exhaustion over-riding his nascent curiosity, Ianto fell asleep.

### 

  
He was woken by insistent shaking. "Get up! Now! Or she'll drain you completely!" the waif whispered, pressing the requisitioned memory stick into his palm. When Ianto hesitated, the girl shoved him with uncannily strong arms.

"Go!"

Ianto went.

Lengths of wire writhed against the tie, but they couldn't scratch Ianto as he sprinted, across what suddenly looked to be a ship's bridge, towards the security door. Ianto slipped through then closed it silently behind him. With one good shove, Lisa's comb twisted in the lock and sparks flew from the latch. From the other side of the thick metal, an alien started shrieking curses.

Ianto fled blindly and nearly tripped over the sleeping forms of the lynx- and wolf-creatures. The lynx-man opened an eye and winked conspiratorially; Ianto turned and kept running towards safety.

### 

  
At the lift, as the doors slid closed, Ianto anxiously watched the hag step onto the landing, her eyes blazing.

"Knowledge is power," she hissed. "Power requires sacrifice. Tell your masters this is not sufficient. If not you, another."

### 

  
Lisa was asleep when Ianto returned. She'd left the plans for all fifty floors of Canary Wharf Tower open on his desk. The was no _fifty-first_; it was something... alien. Before he succumbed to sleep, Ianto called human resources and demanded a transfer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer


End file.
